Just a Lovely Dream
by Lucinda
Summary: Willow dreams of someone that could bring her happiness.  Quickie Challenge pairing 111
1. Just a Lovely Dream

Author: Lucinda  
rating: pg  
pairing: Willow/Legolas (LotR) #111 on Quickie Challenge list found at http://quickie.moonlightpaths.com  
disclaimer: I do not own anyone from Sunnydale, Middle Earth, or the production/distribution rights to either.  
distribution: NHA, WLS, Twisting the Hellmouth, yourmission, Bite Me, please, Serena's. Anyone else, ask first.  
  
  
  
Willow sighed, letting her history textbook fall to the ground beside her. She was leaning against a tree on one of the more remote corners of the Sunnydale university campus, somewhere that she could almost forget about the Hellmouth and demons.  
  
If she closed her eyes and relaxed, she could pretend that she was somewhere else entirely. After all, it wasn't as if things here were that wonderful. Oz had cheated on her and run away. Her friends had more or less abandoned her, not wanting to be dragged into the despair and misery that she'd been suffering.  
  
He had been the one to pull her out of that despair. Legolas, her wonderful elven love, the Prince of Mirkwood, with his sunlight hair and jewel like eyes.  
  
She closed her eyes, picturing him here with her, a basket of food sitting beside him on a soft grey blanket. Soft warm bread, delicately seasoned meats and exotic fruits were delicious, but not as good as the taste of honey spread over his fingers. His kisses were intoxicating.  
  
They'd taken sunlight walks through a forest older than anything she'd ever imagined, the fading melody of creation still echoed in the silence, the weight of centuries, millennia of history turning the air into something like a sweet syrup, filled with the scents of the forest, richer and more potent than anywhere else.  
  
They'd walked in an elven city, gleaming like silver under the light of the moon and unfamiliar stars. Listened to elven singers, the words of their songs bringing tears to Willow's eyes from the sheer beauty of the music. He was there for her, always pleased to see her, always willing to give her a hug or a kiss if she felt sad.  
  
His people understood magic, knowing that the forces called 'magic' were truly the echoes of the song of creation, the power something that could be touched and persuaded to accomplish things. They had been studying these mysteries for thousands of years, not just as a people, but some of the very same individuals. Her power would not make her a freak there, and she could have the finest teachers that anyone could desire.  
  
Her dreams were filled with him, and the time alone was becoming almost unbearable. There was nothing left for her in Sunnydale. Her parents were rarely home, her friends had abandoned her, and the Initiative could provide Buffy with all the information or backup that she needed. Nobody needed Willow anymore.  
  
She sighed, her mind seeing him standing in the warm sunlight, shining on his hair and the string of his bow. His clothing was in soft browns and greens, the colors of the forest, and he almost vanished among the trees, standing out only by the power of his elven vitality. He was perfection.  
  
If she could have a future with him, life would be wonderful. She would never need to wonder if she were loved, and his sweet kisses would chase away any doubts that she might experience. They would live in a graceful home surrounded by the beauty of nature. And he would never leave her, never abandon her to the pain of loneliness.  
  
If only she could find him outside of her dreams, the dreams that she had been retreating to more and more often lately. If only the pull towards him that she'd felt in her dreams would manifest in her waking life, a pull that would let her find him no matter where he was.  
  
If only he were here, on Earth instead of Middle Earth... assuming that she hadn't slid into the edges of madness from her grief. If only she could find that happiness in reality.  
  
if only...  
  
A hand touched her shoulder, and her eyes flew open in surprise.  
  
"I've been looking all over for you, Willow. Giles wants us to go to the Magic Box pronto, there's some big evil to research." Buffy was there, her presence dispelling the last wisps of wishful dreaming.  
  
If only he were really here, instead of just a lovely dream. If only...  
  
end. 


	2. Lovely Dreams of Red

Lovely Dreams of Red  
  
Author: Lucinda  
rating: pg  
pairing: Willow/Legolas (LotR) #111 on Quickie Challenge list found at http://quickie.moonlightpaths.com  
disclaimer: I do not own anyone from Sunnydale, Middle Earth, or the production/distribution rights to either.  
distribution: NHA, WLS, Twisting the Hellmouth, yourmission, Bite Me, please, Serena's. Anyone else, ask first.  
note: by multiple requests, a sequel for Just a Lovely Dream Set after Bilbo left the Shire, but before Frodo departs for Rivendell.  
  
  
Legolas settled himself against a tree, the gentle sunlight falling against his face, warming his skin. The air was filled with the sounds of songbirds, and the soothing rustle of the leaves in the wind, the slow murmurs of the trees speaking to one another. It smelled of spring, the new growth of grass and leaves, the delicate scents of spring flowers, their tiny blooms peeking out in hope that winter was over, the subtle scent of renewal that characterized Spring. Everything was at peace, the forrest safe and calm as it should be.  
  
Which meant that he had time to settle against the tree and consider things, anything that he wanted, actually. He could consider the fact that Rivendell had become the home of an old hobbit seeking to write a book of his adventures, the fact that he'd even had adventures being most unusual for a hobbit at all. He could think of the fact that Arwen, the daughter of Lord Elrond, seemed to be developing feelings for the Ranger who was a welcome guest among the Elves, the last heir of Isildur, the Durandain. Or perhaps he could ponder the fact that all the signs and portents indicated that the time of the Elves was coming to a close, that so many of his people were leaving for the Isles of the Valar, the Undying lands to the West.  
  
He thought of none of those things. Instead, he turned his mind to something else, a dream that he'd had.  
  
Legolas smiled as he thought of HER. She was a vision of grace and beauty, a woman who had rippling hair the color of autumn leaves in shades of russet and scarlet, so entirely different from the fair gold of his people or the twilight hair of the Elves of Lord Elrond. Her eyes were the colors of the forest, a shimmering blend of green and hints of the brown of the trees, and the faintest hints of the grey of a storm filled sky. Her pale skin was a smooth as a flower petal, as supple as fine cloth and a delicate shade that reminded him of honeyed cream. Her smile was like the sunlight, and she was filled with hope, the hope that allowed her to see the best in people, to envision a better tomorrow regardless of the shadows of today.  
  
She looked to have been born to the race of Man, but the power that hummed and sparkled within her wasn't the clumsy workings of human magicians, but the careful touching of the powers of creation, like the power that hummed below the flesh of the Elvenkind, the power that made them other than mortal. Her spirit was bright and shining, it's beauty enhanced by the firings of pain and loss.  
  
He let his mind wander to one of his favorite dreams, one where he walked with her through the trees of Mirkwood, showing her the wonders of his home, a place where you could feel the weight of time, smell air that belonged to an older time, one before Man ruled the lands. She would rest one hand lightly n his arm, trusting him to keep her from wandering as she looked around, eyes sparkling as she would look all around, eyes flickering from the magnificent trees to the gleaming shafts of honey-gold sunlight, to the occasional delicate flower.  
  
Legolas didn't know where the dreams of the delightful woman had come from, or why he'd started dreaming of her one day. But he would dream of her, seeing her hair gleaming in the light of day, or under the light of the moon, which turned her skin to the finest porcelain, and her eyes to shadowed jewels. He'd dreamed of her, vibrantly filled with hope and joy, delighting whole heartedly in everything. Then, the dreams had changed a bit, showing her a bit older, her heart weighed by the pain of some recent loss or betrayal. It was as if for her, everything was falling apart, and she had nobody to turn to, nobody to offer solace and comfort. Nobody but him.  
  
Gradually, he'd come to believe that these dreams were not simply the product of his mind, but the result of his dreaming spirit touching the essence of another spirit, someone with nobody to offer the needed listening ear. It gave him hope that this meant that she was real, someone that truly lived and breathed somewhere in the bounds of creation. At the same time, it made him sorrow, for how could he hope to find her? How would he even begin looking for such a delicate seeming blossom who lived over a dark shadow of evil? They'd had long, rambling conversations in his dreams, conversations that he could occasionally remember a few phrases of. Her name was Willow, like the supple tree that grew at the edges of water. The place that she lived was shadowed by a great evil, but he could not remember the name of her home, or of the evil that overshadowed it, that made it so perilous.  
  
Sometimes, in his dreams they walked through her home, a place filled with the buildings of men, harshly rectangular, with glaring lights of strange origin, and the people wore such unusual clothing... All he knew was that it was near an ocean. They had watched the sun sinking into the sea, smelling the salt in the air and leaning against each other contentedly. There were some trees near her home, a scattering of small pines and a few other trees. They were small and young, and did not seem to speak. Perhaps the trees could feel the shadow of evil, and feared that their words would be twisted.  
  
Perhaps one day he would set off on a journey to try to find her, his lovely Willow with the sweet smile. Perhaps one day he would be able to learn if her kisses would be as sweet in reality as they were in his dreams.  
  
Perhaps...  
  
end. 


End file.
